Undercover as a Spy
by tricksk8er
Summary: Hi! I'm Cammie Morgan! I just lied to a lot of important people that would get really angry if they find out that I am actually a girl and took my brother's place. Also there's an arrogant yet good looking guy that just might suspect that I am not actually a guy. What's up? "Maverick," I said to him cooly, almost bored like. Do not blush, I told myself. Do not blush.


**Hi, this is the first GG fic i hav ever wrote, so i guess thats my excuse for the lamesness.**

**eh, review to tell me what you think! Tell me if this chapter doesnt make any sense kay?**

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_He_ was thrown into the fragile plastic chair. The thud caused from the hard landing of his bruised back and the seat made the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling slowly swing back and forth. Everything was either engulfed with blackness or washed in the pale yellow light. Seven guns were aimed at his heart. Three fingers were on a button that would suck out all the oxygen in the room killing every living thing in it immediately if something goes wrong. Ten guards were willing to sacrifice themselves to interrogate this criminal. _He_ smirked under what resembled a situation James Bond would be in if he was caught and interogated by the enemies.

They were currently in a small room. The glass that enables the polices sitting outside the cell block like square was bullet proof and the guards themselves were wearing vests.

"You killed more than fifty people," the one of the female police stated. The knuckle from _his_ finger cracked as _he_ leaned back and stretched his muscles. The police leaned forward and her slow, jerky movements warned every camera watching about a fight that would most likely break out because of the old woman's anger. _He_ mockingly raised his eyebrows high at the furious guard.

"Yet, it was only because you were _forced_ to," the guard carried on, every word rolling off her tongue like venom. Everybody knew this boy was not innocent, everyone knew that this boy had had a choice. But everyone also knew that they have no evidence to hold against him. "However, your _skills_ were very uh, _talented,"_ the guard sighed, disgust creeping more and more into her words and her nose twitched with disbelief. "So the uh, the government is going to give you a very, very generous offer; you can train as an assassin." _His_ eyes were closed and his head had been nodding encouragingly the whole time the guard spoke. _He_ breathed in steadily and one side of his mouth turned upwards into a lopsided smile. No shame. No guilt.

"I accept the offer," my brother says.

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I was leaning against the cool stone wall, sitting comfortably on one of the bottom bunks in my new room. You could call it a room. But from afar it looked like a prison cell. With bars alined across the window and two locks ready to pad the door to the wall. There were four beds in the room, four desks and four narrow closets. In fact, the whole camp looked like jail. Trapped between snow tipped mountains, deserted by every other source of life, the place that I was going to stay and train for a whole year was an exact replica of a dungeon. _Blackthorn Institution for Troubled Young Men_; boy did this place live up to it's name.

My finger was tapping my iPod, scrolling through my lists of songs, checking my email and stuff. My short dishwater blonde hair dangled in front of my eyes as I looked at the bright screen. My elbows were squeezing my sides as I tried to make it more comfortable for myself while having my chest wrapped around and around with stretchy elastic like towels.

Footsteps echoed across the hallway outside each thud ringing loud and clear. Three students. They were laughing and joking around, and I soon heard the turning of the knob on the door. In strolled three Blackthorn boys; there was a lean black haired boy with dark brown eyes. He stopped in his tracks and smiled at me while his eyebrows were raised with confusion. The second boy was absolutely gorgeous, his unzipped orange jumpsuit revealed a black wife beater hugged his chiseled chest and his blue eyes shone. The third boy, stood at the front, closest to me. His emerald green eyes, half covered by his black and silky (what the hell was wrong with me?) hair, stared into mine as he raised one of his eyebrows suspiciously. He smirked.

"Hi, can we help you?" The skinny boy asked me politely. His head was tilted to the side and he was smiling brightly. Muscles grinned as well.

I could feel the itchy tag peeking out from the material I was given to wear and I couldn't help but drag my left shoulder across the stone wall to scratch it. I straightened my back carefully, afraid my wig was going to slide off, and peered at my three new roomies. Yep, that was how uncomfortable they were making me feel right now.

"Erm, not really," I said to him. "I already settled in." I gestured to my trunk lying at the end of my bed and the random things scattered across my bed like headphones, tissue boxes and socks. Green-eyes seemed taken aback but Muscles grinned and leaned forward.

"Well, you must be our new room mate!" He exclaimed with excitement. "I'm Grant, this here's Jonas," he pointed at himself and the skinny boy. "And this is Zach." _Hi! I'm Cammie Morgan! I just lied to a lot of important people that could get really angry if they find out that I am actually a girl and took my brother's place. Yeppers man, I'm screwed! How do you do? _

"Cool." I mumbled and got up to shake Jonas's hand when he reached out in my direction.

"Wait," _Zach_ paused. "What happened to Liam?" The two other boys slowly rotated their heads to look at their friend. Jonas breathed in and out as if to meditate. "He can't be here if Liam is comin' back." He gestured at my spot on the bed as if playing 'what doesn't belong in the picture'.

"Zachary, it's time to move on." Grant soothed as he gently laid his hand on his back. "Liam left us."

"Oh shut up dickhead you're making it sound like we broke up." Zach snapped.

"Well, you broke something alright," Jonas piped in, "his neck." Grant chuckled and while all this was happening, I squirmed in my position on the bed, still feeling awkward.

"So," Grant turned the attention back to me. "Who are you?" The three of them were all looking at me expectantly. _Come on, you fooled the head master for crying out loud. _I looked him in the eye. _Control your heart rate, they can detect lies. Control your breathing, they are good spies._

"Maverick Morgan," I answered._ Do not blush, do not blush. _I mimicked a grin my brother also did.

"Your on my bed," Zach glared at me.

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